Impulse Whacking
by neonquincy1217
Summary: In the hands of the right person, something as innocent as a pink, frilly, push-button folding umbrella can become a weapon of destruction. Rated T for language and Aoko violence. Written for Poirot Cafe's Super Short Contest#17: Umbrella.


**A/N:** Hey guys! Yep, I'm still half alive huehue. Can't find time to write anything fandom-related since I started working. I have to thank Christmas break... I finally found time for fanfics again.

The idea for this short came to be while I was remembering a certain conversation I had with a close friend. We were raging over reckless drivers who ignore any and all traffic rules just so they could arrive at their destination quickly. I told her what ticks me off the most are motorcycle drivers who USE SIDEWALKS AS DETOURS! *babbles on about disrespectful motorcyclists* IT'S CALLED A _SIDEWALK_ FOR A REASON, PEOPLE! IT'S ON THE SIDE AND PEOPLE WALK ON IT YOURENOTSUPPOSEDTOUSEITASAMOTORCYCLELANEDAGNAMMITASDFHGKJLALSDGFLBDFNVKL!

Aaaaanyway, after that, said friend told me she once whacked a guy's car (or was it a motorcycle) once because the driver was unfriendly to pedestrians... and, yeah... she whacked said mobile with an UMBRELLA. From there the conversation escalated to umbrellas as perfect weapon of choice in any given circumstance or time. Needless to say, I wrote this story by impulse *pats self in the back* I wish I can do the same with my Secret Santa entry (I've done something but I'm still not happy with it).

So without further ado, I present to you my Poirot Cafe Forum Super Short Contest #17 entry, _"Impulse-Whacking..."_ Enjoy!~

* * *

 **Impulse-Whacking**

In the hands of the right person, something as innocent as a pink, frilly, push-button folding umbrella can become a weapon of destruction. Rated T for language and Aoko violence. Written for Poirot Cafe's Super Short Contest#17: Umbrella.

* * *

Nakamori Ginzou felt as if he ran a marathon in the rain once he arrived at the police station a good three kilometers from HQ. Now that he thought about it, using his car would have been a better idea… that, or he could have brought an umbrella.

The inspector's typical weekday would have been an uneventful one, until at around 8pm, Second Division shook with his thunderous voice… and, for once, it was not because of Kaitou Kid.

It all started with a phone call. A distressed (and rather exasperated) Kaito-kun informed him that his daughter Aoko—sweet, _sweet_ , innocent Aoko—was attacked by some filthy lowlife in an attempt to rob and possibly cause her physical harm. Kaito added that his dear daughter's currently with him as she gives her report at the said police station. Ginzou was sure the magician was also babbling on about tatters and bruises and broken things, but when he did, the older man was very well out in the rain, blood in his ears, running at full speed, splattering mud on his best pair of pants and his _only_ decent pair of shoes. Who cares what he looks like when some bastard tried to hurt his only child? On his way, he's thought of more than a hundred ways to get back at the criminal. Not only is he going to rip his throat off, he's also going to bruise him and break his bones in return for… for whatever it was Kaito-kun was talking about.

And so, in about a quarter of an hour or two, Inspector Nakamori, drenched in rain water and sweat, arrived at the station to find an equally-drenched Aoko, crying beside Kaito-kun, who was trying his hardest to comfort his childhood friend by rubbing her shoulder and allowing her to bury her face on his chest. A turquoise blanket is wrapped around her person. Not far from where they are was a guy in his twenties with arms bound behind him and a… badly injured face (most probably the suspect).

The inspector's voice echoed in the small room as he stomped to the direction of his daughter.

"Aoko!"

Said girl slowly looked up, and with trembling lips, ran to her father.

"Dad!" she called, threw herself to him and continued whining. The inspector, his heavy heart mixed with relief, frustration and curiosity, hugged her back, muttering consolations under his breath. From behind Aoko, Kaito approached. Only when the magician was at arm's length did Ginzou found his voice to detach himself from his daughter and ask, "Are you okay? Are you hurt? What exactly happened?"

Kaito, with the role of a dutiful sidekick, answered in his best friend's stead. "Well, Aoko said she was on her way back from buying stuff for dinner until—"

"IT WAS TERRIBLE, DAD!" the girl interrupted, lifting her face to reveal bloodshot eyes and puffy red cheeks. "THAT PERVERTED SON OF A—" she pointed at her attacker, "HE... HE GRABBED ON TO ME AND TRIED TO STAB ME WITH A KNIFE!"

The elder's brows furrowed in fury but stopped himself from making any outburst as he listened. "No matter," he said before he once again pulled Aoko to a hug. His eyes traveled to the direction of the handcuffed man being interrogated by the police. Looking at him, Ginzou noticed how badly deformed his face was—red-and-purple swollen eyes, blood oozing out of his nostrils, and a few teeth missing. The inspector winced at the sight and told the magician's son, "Seriously, though, Kaito-kun, you didn't have to beat the guy up. He would have went to jail for attempted robbery and physical injury without it."

The brunette raised both hands in defense, "Th-that's not my doing, keibu. I wasn't there. When I arrived at the scene, he's already knocked out on the floor looking like that."

"What?! Then…"

Here, Aoko pulled away, biting her lip in guilt.

"It was me. I did that to him," she whispered.

Ginzou raised his brow in confusion. From beside Aoko, Kaito looked on in understanding. Of course the old man's confused. After all, he's unaware of what happens at school once his and Aoko's mop chases occur. Clearly he was not knowledgeable of what his daughter can do in the face of threat.

To help shed light on the subject, Kaito narrated with a big smile plastered on his tired face, "See, Nakamori-keibu, Aoko here took that guy out on her own…"

"How, exactly?"

The inspector's seemingly innocent question caused Aoko to wail once again. Ginzou patted the girl in an awkward manner as Kaito skipped back to the bench they were sitting on and brought back a pink folding umbrella not unlike the one he gave Aoko as a Christmas present …

Except it's broken in half and, when Kaito tried to unfold it, it's got holes that only a sharp object—a knife—could have done.

"With this," said the high schooler.

The next twenty minutes or so was spent narrating just how the umbrella served as both a shield and a sword when Aoko wielded it for self-defense. The umbrella's push-button feature helped multiple times during the ordeal. When the guy tried to attack her, she pushed the button once so it transforms into a rod. When he charged towards her, she pushed it again so it would open. The slashes that could have dug her skin cut through the innocent object instead.

Oh.

So it _was_ the umbrella which was in tatters and broke. Not only that, it's not her daughter, but her attacker who was covered in bruises.

The question isn't "Is Aoko okay?" but instead, "Just how…? What _exactly_ has his daughter been doing?"

"I did it by impulse, I guess…" said the girl before she once again broke into tears. "It was a present you gave me, and now…"

The old man would worry about what "by impulse" means a bit later. Right now, he needs a minute or two to get over the fact that she's not crying because of the attack, but because of a pink, frilly, push-button, folding umbrella.

At a loss for words, Ginzou simply rubbed calming circles on his daughter's back as he said, "It's okay, Aoko… I'll… just buy you a new one…"

Lost at the moment, neither of the two noticed a petrified Kuroba Kaito. He needs to get over the fact that in the hands of the right person, something as innocent as a pink, frilly, push-button folding umbrella can become a weapon of destruction.

* * *

 **END**

 **A/N:**

So... yeah. It's supposed to be funny, but I dunno... you be the judge of that. It's been a LOOOOONG time since I actually wrote something fandom-related. Writing for work is definitely not the same as writing just for the heck of it... I ha dto cut down more than 100 words just for the contest. There's supposed to be a graphic description of the attack but... yeah..

Hope you enjoyed, though ^_^v  
And FYI, this story goes to the "I'd Probably Do This in the Future" folder. Muahahaha. xD


End file.
